Viral Wings
by Project X
Summary: Birds with wings are meant to fly. Nightingales have an unmatched beauty among the birds, their wings strong and shining. But not always can a Nightingale fly, sometimes all they can do is look past their prison bars and dream. They dream of the day they are free and can use those wings to fly, in this case 'Viral Wings'.


**_Viral Wings_**

**Prologue**:

_October 5__th__, 2000. Arizona Desert._

_Nightfall:_ a full moon high in the sky, clouds casting shadows, and the cold wind whipping across the land; the perfect night.

The sound of one lone motorcycle echoes through this night, headlights being shown along the desert sand, lighting up the tan colors of the land. Dust and dirt, sand and sweat rush past the rider of the motorcycle. The helmet that obscures the rider's face protects their eyes from the sand of the road as wind carries it off in gusts.

The rider wears a strange long black military trench coat that's tail waves back and forth with the rush of the current, warn Navy pants that are the darkest of blue with fresh red stains here and there, and rough combat boots made of black leather. The mysterious rider revs the engine of the motorcycle with specialized marksman's gloves on their hands and picks up speed as it becomes evident that the lonely road they ride is devoid of life, moon casting down luminescence on the long blacktop road.

As the clouds cross the sky and cover the moon the rider turns off the road onto a dirt path. The path leads along the desert, cactuses here and there; owls and vultures flying and circling dried carcasses. The rider ignores the rough ride of the stone made path that suddenly appears below their wheels.

Soon enough the rider slows the engine of the motorcycle and comes to a complete stop out in, what seems like, the middle of nowhere, where the path ends. With the sound from the engine completely silenced all you can hear is the sound of death and moving sand echoing throughout the darkness of the night.

The rider kicks out the stand from the bike and parks it there. Combat boots crunch against the stones of the sand. Those same boots shuffle to circle around the bike. The rider takes the helmet from their head and pulls it off gently, a gust hits just as the helmet is gone, and the short dark hair of the rider is swept back away from what appears to be a pale feminine face. Her facial features are light, scars here and there, a blank and well-disciplined expression on the face of an overly mature seeming teenager. Her stance a soldier's, emotions dead, shoulders squared, her walk like a march, feet evenly spaced.

The black military trench coat flaps against the gale until it dies down. The rider keeps her eyes closed until the wind stops, afraid sand would obscure her vision. She opens her eyes slowly, carefully, her long lashes batting. Her eyes glow brighter than the moon does in the sky. Her pupils are yellow and slitted like a snake's. She puts her hand in one of her jacket pockets and pulls out a pair of sunglasses. She slides the sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose quickly, hoping to shield her eyes again.

With her eyes hidden the rider reaches for a large military bag secured to her bike, attached behind the seat with straps. She unlatches it and drops it onto the ground with uncaring ease. The bag unsettles dirt but the rider ignores this annoyance. She unzips the bag after kneeling down and reaches her hands inside of it.

The first thing she pulls out is a small earpiece; she inserts it into her ear than reaches her hands back inside the bag. The next thing she pulls out is two dual Punisher pistols. Quickly and swiftly she straps them to her hips using the holsters they were already in. Once they are perfectly secured she pulls out the last thing she has in the bag; a long sword that was in assorted pieces that she has to put back together. It was more easily carried this way, as the sword all-together is as long and thick as her arm.

Once the sword is also secured at her side, tied into her left belt loop, she zips the bag back up and puts it back onto the motorcycle, latching the straps back together around it. Then she pulls out the keys from the bike's ignition and steps back, when she presses a button on the keys the vehicle suddenly disappears, hidden away by Stealth Tech inside the metal of the motorcycle itself.

When she knows the motorcycle is properly secured she puts the keys back in her pocket and starts to trudge over to what seems like nothing at the end of the path. But when she puts her hands up, an ocean of mirror reflects like water ripples, after a moment of her hand sitting on something that was seemly distorting human perception, that thing appears. It looks like a door, the rider hits a button on the panel of the door and it slides open. It was an elevator and as soon as she gets inside there is a ding noise that echoes throughout the desert coming from a speaker at the ceiling of said elevator.

"_Vocal and retinal analysis required."_ It was a computer's voice coming from the elevator's speaker. A little red eyeball suddenly slides out of the panel of the doorway, ready to scan the rider.

The rider pulls something out of her leather jacket that was zipped closed underneath the trench coat. It's a zip lock bag and inside of it is a human eyeball, the little slits of flesh sticking to it are still bleeding. The rider pulls the eyeball out of the plastic bag and holds it up to the camera. It scans the eyeball with red rays of light that scroll up and down, back and forth.

"_Retinal scan accepted, awaiting vocal."_ The computer voice announces. The rider throws the eyeball away as if it's nothing. It's served its purpose to her.

The rider then messes with a strange looking device on her wrist. She has to pull back her sleeves to see it. The device looks like a small computer turned into a watch. It lights up and the rider types something into the small keyboard on the device. Suddenly audio starts playing from the small computer.

"Doctor Joan Austin, ID code; 6651. Password; Jacob Austin." The voice that makes up the audio clip sounds old, female, weak and weary. After the audio stops the rider rolls her sleeves back down and watches the eyeball camera system closely, stance ready for anything.

"_Vocal cleared, retinal scan accepted. Welcome back Doctor Austin."_ The computer voice says as the little eyeball computer sucks itself back into the control panel of the elevator. After that the doors close and the buttons light up. Automatically the elevator starts moving down and above the doors a screen lights up saying: '_R&D Center'_.

The rider waits patiently in the elevator, ignoring the tune playing on the speakers above. Her eyes are directly dead set on the doors, her stance tense like a panther about to pounce, as she grips the rough edge of the sword's handle tightly. She's contemplating options, statistics, tactics, all the while being ready for any alteration or unplanned complication. You, however, could not tell this by her face. Her expression was as blank as an unused canvas.

When the doors of the elevator open, a ding announcing it's arrival, a couple of what seem to be scientists look inside of it, surprised as they stand there. They having been just waiting for the elevator as is so that they could go home. The elevator is the only way out of the facility, at least the only way out that those hired hands would know of. But when the scientist's look inside the elevator it is dark and barren, the lone light bulb that usually lights the small-enclosed space having been destroyed by something.

"What the Hell?"

"You think we should report this?"

"To who? _Maintenance?_ No, lets just go."

The two unsuspecting ignorant men walk right into the elevator, trapped like rats without even knowing it. Before the second one can reach out his right hand to touch the control panel, the rider falls from the open hatch she had been hiding behind. The two don't even have time to scream before their breaths are nothing but gurgles, desperate struggles not to drown in their own blood as their throats poured out the red liquid in gallons. The two lifeless bodies fall to the elevator's floor, great thick puddles getting larger and larger at the rider's feet.

The rider dismissively wipes the blood from her sword using one of the scientist's white lab coats. Red will forever stain both coats, but the rider does not care. She finds herself stepping over the corpses carefully, hoping not to ruin her boots with the blood of two innocents.

Once out of the elevator the rider starts strutting down the hall. All of the walls are white, even the floor has a chrome colored sheen to it. The lights are so bright and the floor so clean that the rider's very image is being reflected below her as if she was walking on water. Unintentionally and without knowledge the rider is leaving a trail of blood behind her, ruining the white and the cleanliness of it all.

The hallway is long and narrow, doors here and there dotting the corners and turns of the passageway. The rider ignores each door as she continues to walk down the hallway, her eyes straight ahead as she already knows exactly what she's looking for.

It is many passed entrances later that the rider stops at one door in particular. Above the door a sign glows stating that the lab was dedicated to viral enhancements and genome research. The rider pauses, finally going completely still. Through the noises and vibrations of the floor, as well as the shifting of shadows from under the door, the rider can determine exactly what to expect when she turns the handle.

So she knows to dodge the massive amount of bullets coming her way as the door is thrown open. She hides behind the wall as a Gatling gun is being fired at her position. Had she continued to stand there her body would have been ripped to pieces. She holds herself against the wall until the noise of reloading is heard. In the blink of an eye the rider has thrown herself into the room, an unseen bullet is shot at the switch box to her left, which connected an outside source of energy to the room, shorting out the cables and turning off the lights abruptly.

"What the-"

"What was that?"

"Who turned off the damn lights?!"

The rider is in the lab now; she can sense all five of the guards that are in the room even if she cannot see them she knows they are there. The rider can hear their heartbeats, rapid pulses, nervous and frightened. From this the rider knows that these guards are not well trained or disciplined, they are not soldiers, merely hired civilians in need. They seemed to have anticipated her arrival and while this should keep the rider on her toes she remains at the same pace as ever, seemingly forever unchanging.

The lab is dark now, the air tense. The rider can smell the virus in the room, she can smell the chemicals, and feel the toxic air crowd around her. The lab is littered with tables, those tables covered in dangerous, very deadly, viral samples as well as examining equipment. The rider finds herself atop one of those tables, the one directly behind the young and foolish guards. They stay together, trembling, waiting, guns in their hands ready to fire.

The rider is poised like a panther, ready to pounce at any second. Her yellow eyes glow brighter, but the guards are facing away from her so they cannot see this change. In the time it takes to exhale the rider is upon the five. This time there is screaming, a struggle, and gunfire. But in the end they all die the same, whether sliced throat, stabbed heart, or dismemberment, they all die bloody.

The rider wipes her sword off on the uniform of the last guard she killed. This time there is no way to avoid getting blood on her boots, as the blood of all five men had come together to form one massive puddle of the warm thick substance. When her sword is clean the rider straps it on her belt loop again and walks over the bodies and straight to one last door, secretly hidden in the lab.

The only way to open the hidden entrance was to find the control panel for it. The control panel is hidden with the same Stealth Tech system as the elevator had been. The rider knows where the panel is and reaches out for it, when she touches it the panel becomes visible. On the panel is four numbered buttons. The rider takes no time in punching in the code. After she does the hidden door appears and opens up to reveal a small isolated well lite room.

In the center of that room is a chubby man, holding a gun pointed directly at the rider. The chubby man wears an expensive crème colored suit, a brunette comb over on his head. The man is trembling violently, terrified, sweat pouring down his fat skin. In his arms he grips a silver case tightly as if it is his very life. The rider's eyes go straight to the case and she starts stepping forehead to reach for it.

The chubby man raises the pistol higher, aiming it at the rider's head; even this does not make the rider change her blank expression. Metal clicks and clangs as the pistol in the man's sweaty palm shakes as much as he trembles.

"Stop right there!" His voice is low pitched, old sounding, but unstable, fear filled. He sounds desperate, ready to do anything to ensure his own survival. His old blue eyes analyze the rider wearily, perhaps suspecting what she is capable of.

The rider does not stop and the old man continues to take quaking steps back. "You…. you're her aren't you? The leader of the VW Unit, _HIS_ soldiers! You're not human! How could you be?" He pauses, taking a deep shaky breath as his eyes land on the rider's sunglasses. "You've come here for the sample!" The old man is cornered before he knows it; his brow dampens even more when he realizes what a mouse he is compared to the rider.

The chubby man continues his grip on the case as he puts on a horribly fake brave face. He drops the gun, knowing that it will be useless against the rider. He had heard the rumors, heard the shots from in the next room, even if he could shoot her she'd just heal. "What did they call you again?" He tries to make his voice sound deeper too, tries to intimidate, but how could such a small man scare such a monster? "Something to do with night and birds right?" He chuckles, trying to force the tension out, trying not to scream or cry, it doesn't work, and tears sting his eyes any way.

The rider is only an inch away from him now and her sword's handle is in her palm. The old man pretends he doesn't see this and goes on. "Very fitting, that name. I hope you turn on your master before all is said and done! I hope you-" Before the man can finish there is a sword in his ribs, ripping through his lungs, cutting up into him. He screams, blood gurgling to his lips as he falls to his knees. The case is in the rider's hands before he falls. With his last breath the man looks up at the rider, all the hate and anguish he could muster in his gaze, and he says:

"-Kill him, Nightingale."

**-X-**

**End Note: **_Well this was different for me. This was written in a different style then what I normally do. I plan on writing the whole story like this. It won't be very long if you're worried and it kind of ties in with "Dog Days of Post-Paradise". It's an AU of DDPP, but can still be read solo, just imagine Angel's mom not leaving her dad and actually taking Angel for herself. Then her experimenting on Angel and thinking of her as a lab rat._

_***Spoiler Alert**__* Then Angel's mom or as Angel's called here, Nightingale, sales her to Umbrella when she's three years old. When she turns 6 Wesker finds and interest in her and uses her for viral enhancement experimentation, then when she's 10 he starts to train her like he would a STARS member, but much more harshly. When she turns 13 she's basically Wesker's dog to do with as he wishes. But she's not the only one, she keeps a team, all are basically Wesker's puppets though._

_THERE WILL BE NO SEXUAL CONTENT IN THIS STORY!_

_This is a more serious dark story yet kind of like some of my earlier RE stories. But I've had enough of the lovely dovey Wesker crap! Sure he's hot, but also a freaking dickwad! So no there is no love story in this, the closest it will get to that is Jack Krauser and Nightingale but their relationship is still not in any way romantic. So if you're looking for WeskerXOC action, well you've come to the wrong place. _

_If you want to read an interesting story that puts the plot of RE and sees it through someone else's eyes that's tortured during the entire time, if you like angst and gore, well then ENJOY!_


End file.
